


Daena

by TheRealmsDelight



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Public Humiliation, Sexual Coercion, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15569082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealmsDelight/pseuds/TheRealmsDelight
Summary: At the Great Sept of Baelor, Cersei has a different plan for how Ned might win his freedom, in service to his queen.





	Daena

Summer was beginning to come to an end. She didn't need a white raven from the Citadel to feel that the air was no longer as warm as it had once been. The chill hadn't quite arrived, but it would, Cersei knew. This wasn't the first summer she'd seen, but there was always a sadness to watching the warmth retreat. Summer was warmth and skin and pleasure. Summer was Jaime's golden hair and golden smile pulling her in for a close embrace, completing her. Winter, on the other hand, was as chill as Robert's sloppy kisses, and as impossible to hide from.

Cersei Lannister took a moment to gather herself. She stood a bit straighter, smoothing the front of her crimson gown. The excitement in the air was electrifying. After enduring Robert Baratheon for 14 years, at last he was gone. Her son Joffrey wore the crown and all the titles that went with it. Except...

_Joff won't be joining us today,_ she thought mischeviously. She'd told Pycelle that His Grace was having trouble sleeping, and the grey little creature had practically fallen off his chair in his haste to assist. It had been such a simple thing to distract the old fool and triple the dose he'd carefully portioned. And now Joff would sleep through the Hand's sentencing. She would have her turn at long last. 

Ser Meryn and Ser Boros flanked her as she stood looking out at the crowd. A pang of sadness filled her as she longed for a different Kingsguard beside her, longed for him to take her face into his hands and tell her she was the only woman in all the world. But Jaime was not here. He was being held by the Hand's wife and son, and that was why she dare not risk letting Joffrey interfere. He was a wild card. Cersei could not guess what he might do. And she needed Jaime back.

Four men struggled the bring an enormous handsome wooden chair onto the platform. From the corner of her eye, Cersei could see Sansa peering curiously at it. It was the first time all day that the girl's face hadn't looked plastered and false. Cersei commanded the chair to be placed directly in the center. No sooner was the chair in place than the bells began to ring and the prisoner was brought forth.

She was pleased to see that they had bathed and dressed him as she'd commanded. His hands were shackled behind his back, and he had the look of a dog who had been beat. A slight smile played upon her lips as Pycelle muttered his way through his little speech and Stark stumbled out his confession. At last, it was her turn to speak. Cersei stepped forward gracefully.

“Ladies and gentlemen of this fine city,” she began. “Before you stands a traitor, shamed and disgraced. Custom would have us put Lord Eddard to death, or send him to the Wall to live out his days in exile.” She paused, turning her head slowly to look Stark directly in the eye. She could see his hatred of her, but also his fear. She shifted her legs slightly, her arousal already making itself known.

Cersei turned back to face the crowd. “But today, I will give Lord Eddard Stark the opportunity to reform himself. To prove that he is a loyal subject. I will give Lord Eddard Stark the chance to serve his queen.”

With a great deal of flourish, Cersei slowly crossed the platform stage and stood before the wooden chair. She gathered her skirts and seated herself while the crowd murmured in confusion and Pycelle wrung his hands in a vain attempt to understand what was happening. “Come forth, Lord Eddard,” Cersei commanded.

Trepidation was writ across his face as Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, stepped forward to stand before the queen. “On your knees,” she commanded. He knelt. Cersei allowed herself a moment to savor this. Robert's best friend, brought so low.

“To prove your loyalty to the crown above all other loyalties,” Cersei continued to speak loudly enough for the gathered crowd to hear, though her eyes were locked on his. “You will now make me cum.”

She'd known the gasp was coming. She tilted her head to the side and smiled sweetly. Stark blinked up at her.

“I-- What?”

“Your Grace,” interjected Pycelle, rushing now to whisper into her ear. She held up a hand to silence him.

“Go on,” she said, this time speaking at a volume so that only Stark could hear her. “Show the good people of King's Landing where your loyalty lies. Show them how low you've sunk. Dishonor your lady wife with all these people to witness, and your daughter as well. It shouldn't be so difficult. You've a bastard, after all.” She leaned forward now to whisper into Stark's ear, inhaling his clean, masculine scent as she did so. “Show me what you did to your bastard's whore mother.”

“I will not,” Ned Stark replied, disgusted. This, too, Cersei had expected.

“You will,” she told him, still whispering into his ear, “or I will throw you back into that dungeon cell. Sansa will remain here with me. We will destroy your son on the battlefield, and when my brother Jaime comes home, we will visit you in your dungeon cell. I will fuck him before your eyes and when we're done, I will sit on your face and you will be forced to eat whatever drips out for as long as I want. Perhaps we will pay you a visit every fortnight. Perhaps we'll capture your wife and bring her here as well, and she can stay with you and help you clean Jaime's cum from my cunt.”

She gave Stark's ear a lick before leaning back into her temporary wooden throne. She smiled at him and waited for the realization to dawn on him. Slowly, she could see it reaching him. He had no choice. To save his wife and children, he had to make her cum.

“Unshackle my hands,” he begged.

Cersei shook her head, squirming slightly. Her arousal was in full swing now. She hadn't worn smallclothes today, and she could feel the dampness and warmth between her legs. “You're a dangerous prisoner. I suppose you'll have to think of some other way to make me cum.” Cersei lifted her skirts just enough for Ned Stark to duck underneath. She continued to move her hips excitedly as she watched him make his decision. She couldn't get enough friction this way, but it still felt good.

She could see him deliberately avoid his daughter's gaze as he considered, then determination crossed his sullen face as he inched forward to please his queen.

Cersei arranged her skirts once more so that her cunt was fully concealed from the crowd, who were all straining to get a glimpse of her royal twat. She denied them that, then leaned back against the throne, her clit beginning to throb in anticipation. She raised her right hand to recline regally at the back of the throne, careful to brush her arm against her swelling nipples as she did so. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make her close her eyes for just a moment.

Ned's beard brushed against the soft, supple skin of her inner thighs, tickling and bristling ever so slightly. As he worked his way deeper between her legs, Cersei could feel his hot breath wash over her tingling pussy.  _What do you know, these Northmen still have warm breath._

She felt his lips make contact with hers. Her hips were thrusting now, out of her control, trying to push her clit closer to him. He began licking up and down her slit, learning the lay of the land. Her throbbing clit was still untouched, but it needed to be. The ache was beginning, the real need she usually shared only with Jaime. Only it wasn't Jaime under there. Stark's beard reminded her of that.

His tongue explored the folds of her cunt timidly, unaccustomed to other women. Perhaps he was unaccustomed to eating pussy at all. Cersei grew excited at that thought. What if she was getting a service from Ned that Catelyn had never known? Frustrated, she slid down slightly in her throne, pushing her cunt further into his face. She could feel his hot breath, could sense movement from his tongue, but her clit needed to be  _ licked _ , damn it. She could actually feel it pulsing with desire now. Jaime never made her wait this long.

Ned seemed startled by her sudden movement and pulled back. Cersei let a hiss escape her lips, which seemed to bring him back to his senses. He burrowed his face in her folds once more, prodding all around her cunt but somehow missing the prize. Now she was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Catelyn Stark. Cersei cried out softly with need, a soft mewling of desire as his tongue brushed lightly over her pulsating nub. “Yesssss,” she told him. “ _ There _ !”

He seemed to understand now, and at last he focused his efforts on her pleasure button. He dragged his tongue lightly up and down, up and down, up and down. Cersei moaned with delight, at last receiving the touch she so desperately needed. His tongue washed over her again and again, up and down, up and down, sending waves of pleasure through her body. Yet it wasn't quite enough.

She began to rotate her hips, desperately wanting more friction, more pressure. “Harder,” she commanded him. He seemed confused by her order and began moving his tongue in circles around her clit instead. “ _ Oh _ ,” she moaned. This was even better than what he'd been doing before.

Circle after circle after circle, Cersei's cunt grew slick with her own juices and Ned's saliva. She needed  _ more _ friction. She was never going to cum like this! “Harder!” This time she said it louder and thrust her pussy up to his face as she said it.

Side to side, he began to lick her clit with slightly more pressure than before. His hot breath grew ragged as he tried desperately to give his queen what she wanted. Cersei could feel wetness halfway down her thighs now from Ned's efforts, and she began to feel her orgasm building inside her. “ _ Yes _ ,” she moaned. “Like that, oh, but harder. Harder!”

She felt his tongue move faster as he gave her more friction. Up and down, up and down. Side to side, side to side. Round and round. He was switching now, and it was driving her mad with desire. She was no longer aware of the crowd of people staring, no longer aware of her son sleeping in the Red Keep or Pycelle's incoherent mutterings. There was nothing in the world but Ned's tongue and her cunt. She was so close. She could almost feel it.

“Yessssss,” she whispered. “More!” On and on it went. Cersei thrust her hips, crying out, desperately seeking release. Ned's tongue kept its rhythm, no matter how tired he must be by now. Up and down, side to side, up and down, circle, up and down, side to side. She couldn't predict what he might do next, couldn't adjust. Her clit was singing now, aflame with need and pleasure and desire.

But he wasn't making her cum.

Desperately, Cersei grabbed Ned's head under her skirts and forced him deeper into her cunt. “Yes!” she cried out, grinding his face against her pussy. Ned kept trying to keep up, but she had no time for this anymore. Her clit was begging for release. She needed this now. She shoved his head, burrowing it against her flesh as she ground into him. Vaguely, she was aware that it was his nose she was grinding on. It didn't matter.

Faster and faster, Cersei rotated her hips, grinding her clit into Ned's nose. She heard him gasping for breath and grunting in pain as she flattened his nose against her twat. Her clit throbbed and pulsed and screamed. She cried out once more, letting out a long, soulful moan as she reached her climax.

Slowly, she released Ned's head. He gave her sensitive nub one last, gentle lick before emerging from her skirts. His face was covered in her juices and sweat and his own saliva. He was her servant now. His fate was in her hands.

Cersei allowed herself a few moments to bask in the glory of her release and her complete conquering of Eddard Stark. She let her eyes wander over the assembled crowd, most of them slack jawed or tittering. All of them knew what Ned had done. All of them had borne witness.

At last, she straightened in her throne. “Let it be known that here, before the eyes of gods and men, Lord Eddard Stark has proven his loyalty to the crown,” she announced.

Lowering her voice so that only Stark could hear, she continued. “You will gather your belongings and your daughters. You will leave this city today, before sundown. You will take command of your son's army and order them to return to their homes and holdfasts. You will release my brother Jaime at once.  _ At once _ . 

“If you do not, we will come for you, and we will find you and bring you back here. But it won't be you that spends his life in that dungeon, devouring my juices along with Jaime's as often as we see fit. I will bring your beautiful daughter Sansa back here and chain her in your dungeon and we will see how her pretty little face looks when I'm done with it. Do you understand?”

Ned stared at her, exhausted, horrified, but most of all, beaten. “Yes, Your Grace,” he answered.

“Ser Meryn, release the prisoner.”

 


End file.
